Tales of a Troublesome Teenager
by Megz17
Summary: A series of oneshots featuring Mercy when she was growing up in Aspen Creek. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello All! This will eventually be a collection of one-shots featuring Mercy when she was in a teen living in Aspen Creek. Each chapter will feature Mercy interacting with a different Aspen Creek resident. The first is Samuel, and it is admittedly a lot of fluff but hopefully entertaining fluff. They were not meant to be in the end, but I will always have a soft spot for the guy. Some inspiration taken from Moon Called and Hunting Ground specifically. As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs.**

**Idle Paws are the Devil's Playthings**

Mercy resisted the urge to scratch her ear with her back foot. She had been lying, literally in wait for over an hour, and knew it couldn't be much longer until he ended his nightly run past the house. She was almost completely hidden beneath a Rocky Mountain Juniper that was along the side property line of Bryan and Evelyn's yard.

Though they had both been gone for close to year, it was still hard to be alone in the house that continued to hold the weight of their presence. Nights tended to be the worst, as the silence just seemed more encompassing and oppressive. Normally it wasn't too bad as Bran tended to stop in at some point during the evening, but an undisclosed pack issue (not that any of them ever were disclosed to _her_) had kept him away for the last few days.

Mercy had finished her usual four to eight o'clock shift at the motel, and had literally cringed at the idea of another boring night flipping through the six available channels. She didn't even have any school work to distract her! Classes had been called off for the rest of the week due to the bout of strep throat and whooping cough that had been rapidly spreading through the small school community. It had seemed pointless to the school administrator and parents to try and teach classes with over half of the students missing.

This fact had also kept Samuel occupied for the past week. He came by late every night that he had gone for a run. Before heading home, he would run a loop past her house and gave a soft woof outside her window. Mercy always heard it, even if she was dozing when he came by, and it never failed to put a smile on her face. She may have lost a lot in her life lately, but it reminded her of who she still had.

Tonight instead of watching the minutes slowly tick by inside, she had shifted and prowled around the few acres behind her home. Mercy didn't dare stray too far away from her yard. It was only a couple of days before the full moon, and there were many wolves whose control she apparently tested on a good day. Just before she hid under the juniper, Mercy darted every-which-way across the back yard, rolled around in the new spring grass, and in general saturated the area with her scent. She also had darted into the house, turned on her bedside lamp, put the small stereo on low, and opened the window halfway. For all intents and purposes the house looked like it normally did late at night.

It appeared that her guess had been right, as a winter white wolf with ice blue eyes was making his way from the back of the yard towards her window. He had a bounce in his step which she imagined was from his amusement over her previous antics. The minor breeze was working in her favor, and Mercy was able to slink to the small opening between branches that would allow her to escape without rustling branches.

Mercy waited until Samuel had just passed her tree when she darted silently out, grabbed the end of his tail and gave it a quick tug before bounding a few yards away. She spun around and dropped her front legs down and had her tail up in the age old stance depicting "Let's Play". Samuel had spun around and now faced his new quarry crouched down in a stance reminiscent of a mountain lion stalking his prey. He may be growling lowly but his eyes twinkled in merriment.

Mercy gave a joyous yip and dashed off to the Douglas Firs along the back of the yard. She heard Samuel hot on her heels so she used her smaller size and maneuverability to dart in between and around the trunks of the trees. The white wolf, instead of following, tried unsuccessfully to intercept the coyote in the larger spaces between trees. Mercy, getting cocky by her ability to keep away, started prancing on the other side of the trees from Samuel while giving off happy yips.

Samuel gave a dangerous grin while feinting one way before charging through the trees right at her. Mercy tried to jump back, but in her surprise stumbled. Samuel bumped her enough to have her on her back before pushing his cold nose along the short hair of her stomach.

She whined at the tickling sensation before managing to turn over and squirm out from under him. They continued to race and jump back and forth across the yard with Samuel mostly successful in keeping Mercy away from the trees. Thinking she could surprise him again, Mercy jumped one way before trying to dive under Samuel's belly to the relative safety of the trees beyond.

Samuel anticipated the move at the last second and dropped down trapping Mercy halfway under his belly. Mercy was shocked to be suddenly pinned down with her front paws out in front of her by a 250 pound werewolf. She tried squirming but found herself almost completely immobile. Mercy could tell that he was holding the majority of his weight off of her, but in her current form and position she had no hope of dislodging him.

She turned her head around and looked at Samuel's face. His head was turned toward her with what could only be described as a cocky wolf grin on his face. Mercy gave a huge sigh, and leaned around to lick his cheek and put her nose underneath his chin to concede the win.

Samuel immediately jumped up, rubbed the side of her neck with his head and started herding her to the house.

Once inside, Mercy trotted to the bathroom while Samuel went to the spare room next to hers. Mercy's fast and effortless shift left her plenty of time for a quick shower to remove the grass stains and dirt while Samuel made his far slower and painful transformation. The week of long days and being continually called out must have been weighing on Samuel, as Mercy had showered, changed and was making cocoa when Samuel came out in one of the pairs of sweats and t-shirts he kept at her place. He gave her a hug and ruffled her hair from behind before taking his cocoa and steering them both to the living room couch.

Samuel sat down at one end, and Mercy flopped down with her back to his side and legs stretched out down the length of the couch. He wrapped his arm around her waist and they relaxed in the comfortable silence as they sipped their drinks. After a while Samuel gave her a slight squeeze and spoke "What have you been up to _bychan _?"

Mercy muttered "Absolutely nothing of note".

Samuel frowned at the slight smell of despondency he caught from her as she spoke. He slouched down and put the side of his head on top of hers. He started telling her a story about a hunt that he, Charles and his Da had gone on years ago. They were trying to move a large herd of elk south towards Aspen Creek in time for a full moon hunt. For some reason Murphy's Law had been in full effect for the entire sordid adventure, and by the end he had Mercy laughing and making fun of them and their misadventures.

Mission now accomplished, he moved on to his new plan and asked "I'm headed into Missoula tomorrow to pick up supplies from the medical supply store that we have run low on. Want to come along for a change of scenery?" Samuel inquired trying to sound like it didn't matter to him at all.

Mercy turned to look at him directly with a haughty look on her face. "Samuel Llewellyn Cornick, are you seriously trying to con me into playing sherpa on this expedition under the guise of doing me a favor?"

Samuel grinned at her and replied "While I am certainly capable of such underhanded tactics, in this case I'm more interested in getting someone to go with me to try a new restaurant that just opened up. Mediterranean fusion I'm told; I give it a 50/50 that it's amazing or horrible."

Mercy turned back around and huffed in indignation. "Well I certainly deserve lunch for putting up with you."

Samuel later pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, and put it over Mercy once she had dozed off. His Da would be able to find him if need be, and the town's other doctor was on call for the morning shift. In any case, what he was doing now was as important as anything else he had done that day.

Before he too dozed off Samuel softly replied "I hope you always will _f 'annwylyd_".

bychan – little one

f 'ammwylyd – my loved one

**Thanks for reading. Please review and if there is someone specific you want me to write one of these about let me know and I'll try my best!**

**Cheers,**

**Megz**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again everyone! Hopefully the summer (or winter for those southern hemisphere readers) is treating you well. I wrote this one about Leah, because she just makes herself an easy target for retaliation. FYI, this prank does work but please don't try this at home! ;-)**

**The year of this one-shot does make some difference if you are into music or cars so I tried my best to logic it out. Mercy's age in Moon Called was 32 and if we say the series started in present day; Moon Called would be about Thanksgiving 2005 as the book came out in February 2006. Therefore Mercy was born in 1973. If we add 13 years we are going to say this story takes place in the summer of 1986. **

**As always, anything/one you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

**PS: Sorry if anyone got multiple alerts about this chapter being posted, for some reason after I fixed a type-o the chapter disapeared. Very Strange . . .**

**If it has Teeth or Tires, It's Gonna Give you Trouble**

Looking both innocent and confused is not a skill Mercy had in abundance, and to get out of this one, she was going to have to give an Oscar-worthy performance. The kicker was that she would have to do it without telling a lie.

Across the kitchen table from her was Bran. His face is completely neutral so she had no idea if he suspected or how much he suspected. The Queen Bitch was to her left and Mercy avoided looking at her as much as possible. It could be because Leah looks like she was trying to set her on fire with her eyes, but also seeing her wound up was funny and satisfying, and neither emotion would benefit Mercy at that particular moment. Finally, Bryan was on the right looking nonchalant sitting there sipping his coffee. She'd have believed he was so if Mercy couldn't see the slight tension across his shoulders, and his left foot was on the inside of her chair leg, ready to pull it and Mercy closer if Leah lost control.

Maybe I should back up a bit . . . .

Mercy's situation kinda sucked. As a general rule, Aspen Creek doesn't have a lot of options for a 13 year old to make some money during the summer. When you add to it the fact that ¾ of the adults in town hate her guts, the options become basically nil. Maybe that is a little unfair, not all of the ¾ hate her, but the rest just don't want to deal with the social backlash of being nice to her. In any case, the idea of babysitting is out.

So, a couple of months ago when Bran offered to pay Mercy $10 an hour to wash his fleet of vehicles once a week she was ecstatic! Between Bran and Leah they had five vehicles so she was expecting to get about $50 a week out of the deal. The first few times Mercy went, it was great. She brought along her small stereo, cranked up her music and worked the afternoon away. Bran was home a couple of the times and he came out to chat here and there, and one time hit her in the back with water from the hose while she was washing rims. He seemed genuinely surprised by the sponge that came immediately flying at his face. That day had taken more than five hours.

However, three weeks prior, Bran had been away when Mercy had come by. That really made no difference as all the vehicles were outside and she had a system in place. Mercy grabbed the soap, sponges, cloths, buckets and hose and started with the biggest vehicle, the Chevy K30. It always took a while as the Alabama Army Truck was usually picked for the really rough trips into the bush, so it always had a good coating of mud on it. She would have moved next to the Jeep Comanche, but Bran was driving it at the moment. Mercy made a mental note to come back another day to take care of it.

Mercy then moved on to Bran's Corvette Stingray. It was a horribly impractical car for the rural Montana roads, but Marcy couldn't blame him for owning one. It was a beautiful and unique car. Next she came to Leah's brand new black Audi Quattro Coupe. She had to grudgingly admit it was a cool car, despite who owned it.

Mercy was working on the Audi singing along to Wanted Dead or Alive on the stereo, but she stopped when she heard the house door open and close. Mercy had the car between her and the house, so she glanced up quickly over the hood.

Leah stood there in shorts and a light blue t-shirt slowly braiding her hair over her right shoulder, all the while glaring at Mercy with glowing amber eyes. Mercy, having some sense of self preservation, dropped down to her knees and lowered her eyes to the ground.

Leah growled out, "Dead. Definitely wanted dead over alive." She slowly came across the deck and down the steps until she stood directly in front of Mercy. In a deceptively sweet tone she said "Listen to me very carefully, you interloping mongrel. If there is so much as a water spot still on this car when you are done, there will be a new coyote rug in my house by the end of the day."

She then crouched down with her mouth next to Mercy's ear and whispered "And if you open the door at any time so that your stench gets into my upholstery, I will take my displeasure out on your slut of a mother after your pelt is adorning my floor."

Leah stood up and started to stroll back towards the house before cheerfully calling over her shoulder "Best get a move on".

Mercy took a few deep breaths before standing up and getting back to work. It wasn't the first time, or likely to be last time, that Leah had threatened her but that didn't mean she wasn't unnerved by it. After a few minutes, her anxiety shifted to anger. Mercy was well aware that if the situation ever arose where Leah could push her off the proverbial cliff without getting caught, she would do it in a heartbeat without even a moment of regret. But, she wouldn't make good on her threat no matter how much she wanted to; she was just enjoying threatening and scaring Mercy because she could.

Mercy finished Leah's car, granted with more care than usual, and was working on the Pontiac 6000STE while her mind was running a mile a minute. She came to a decision and had a rough plan as she finished. Mercy packed up her supplies putting them into the garage and did one more check of the Quattro. Before leaving she patted the roof of the car gently and whispered "Forgive me for my trespasses, as I cannot always forgive those that trespass against me."

She walked down the drive toward home with some bounce in her step, because as one of her favorite characters would say "There are games afoot."

There was a pack meeting a few nights later, and as she commonly did, Mercy went for a run without having to worry about who she would encounter. She took a new route that went past Alex Brown's small auto shop and towing company and snuck in the gate. Alex's dad George, a member of the pack, was out of town at a dog show, and the shop didn't have enough work to support more than just Alex. Therefore, it was her hope that her tracks and scent would go unnoticed in the lot.

First Mercy found a plastic bag that had blown up against the chain link fence and grabbed it with her teeth. She took it over to a row of functional but used tires that Alex sometimes sold as cheap spares. Mercy shifted shape and crouched down to the tires furthest from the shop. Using the bag as a barrier between her skin and the valve stem caps, she removed six of them. Maneuvering them into one corner of the bag, Mercy shifted again, grabbing the bag in her mouth before heading for home.

Later that night, Mercy used a very small needle and metal thimble to slowly put two tiny holes at the top of each cap's side. The next day, Mercy went to the schoolyard and returned with a pocketful of pebbles. She found six that fit as snugly as possible while still falling out when turned upside down. Mercy then used her bike and a tire pressure gauge to figure out the time it took them to release 10 PSI.

Preparations now made, all Mercy needed to do was wait for an opportunity. A week later, Mercy had stopped in at Bran's to return one book and borrow another from his library. While there she overheard Leah on the phone giving the details on an amazing two-hour sale happening the next day at her favorite store in Missoula. Mercy snuck back out the way she came with her new book sight unseen.

Mercy came by the next morning 30 minutes before Leah would have to leave if she were to make it on time for her sale. Mercy had two caps washed free of her scent in a plastic bag in her pocket. She used the bag once again as a barrier to switch out the passenger side front and rear tire caps with her modified ones. If all went according to plan, Leah's tires would be flat 45 minutes after she left. Mercy went inside the house, explained that she hadn't been able to get into the previous book, picked another and left.

Wanting to be in the area when the shit hit the fan, Mercy took her new book, Treasure Island, and went to the school yard. The school play centre had a house on stilts that the beam for the swings was attached to. If you were flexible, you could crawl out the window of the house, you could pull yourself onto the roof of it. Mercy settled in the sun with her newly borrowed book as she layed on the side of the roof that faced away from the main road coming into town.

An hour into young Jim Hawkins' adventures with swashbuckling pirates, Mercy heard Alex's tow truck drive down the main street out of town. Mercy grinned and kept reading. A couple of hours later, Mercy heard the incoming rumble of the diesel tow truck. Mercy peeked around the edge of the roof just as it drove by to see Leah ranting and flailing in the passenger seat.

Alex had obviously switched the driver's rear with the passenger front as the Audi was pulled along sadly behind. Mercy laughed until her stomach hurt and she nearly fell off the roof before jumping to the ground and heading home for supper.

Mercy heard later through the grape vine (it was a small town after all) that Leah must have hit something or rough pavement and she had two tires go flat on her half way to Missoula. She unfortunately didn't notice the difference in the ride until too late and wrecked the rims in addition to having to buy four new tires. Apparently Leah hadn't known that with the new all-wheel drive system in her car, you can't change one or two tires if something happens, you have to change them all. The whole town in private, and the brave souls in public, remarked on her failure to pay attention to her surroundings. In the end, the car was fixed and Leah had spent a lot of money that day, just not on what she had originally intended. Social intrigue soon looked elsewhere.

Mercy's next opportunity came 10 days later. Leah and her friend, another female wolf named Meredith, were meeting Meredith's mate, William and nephew Andrew, who had been turned the previous fall, for a moose hunt into the mountains for the day. William and Andrew had ran from town earlier that day and Leah and Meredith would drive part way and run the rest of the way to meet them.

Mercy was already at the Marrok's house washing vehicles, and on a hunch put two of her modified valve stem caps on the rear tires of the Comanche that she had finished washing 10 minutes before. She was back working on the Stingray when Leah and Meredith strolled out of the house heading for the row of vehicles. Mercy kept her eyes on the hood of the car she was working on and tried her best to look cowed.

Leah sauntered up and sneered condescendingly, "Looks like you came on the wrong day little bitch! I'm taking the Jeep out and it's already been washed. You'll just have to come back tomorrow and redo it on your own time, you waste of skin." She grinned and walked off toward the truck.

Mercy made sure to use the hose on the back of the Stingray as Leah and Meredith got in, as their werewolf enhanced hearing may have picked up the sound of air escaping from the tire on their side. Leah peeled out of the driveway. Mercy whistled a happy tune and continued with her work. She went for a run that afternoon with Bryan, but kept to herself after supper as she read David Copperfield in the living room.

The gossip mill was once again churning the next day, as everyone found out about the events of the previous night. The four wolves returned to the Jeep after a successful hunt and the female wolves had started their change back when Andrew noticed the flat rear tires. Andrew stayed with the women while William ran back to Aspen Creek to get help. Leah and Meredith finished their changes to find themselves stranded on the dirt track in the mountains until help arrived. After two hours of VERY impatient waiting, Bran came to pick up the pack members and his wife in the K30, saying he would send Alex up to pick up the Jeep in the daylight the next day.

Leah's lack of driving skills was once again joked about, only this time in much less hushed tones. She was livid at once again being the butt of jokes, and all those who valued their lives or testicles steered well clear of her for the next few days.

Mercy at this point knew she was treading on thin ice, as there were a few too many commonalities between the two incidents that could point back to her. Mercy had one really good friend in her class named Jennifer and she had just gotten back from a two-week family vacation. Jennifer looked to the world like a short pixie-like manifestation of sugar and spice and everything nice. What most didn't realize was the mileage she got out of that impression to hide her mischievous side.

Mercy invited Jennifer over and gave her the last two caps that she had enlarged the side holes on, and told her that she was calling in a favor. If Mercy ever called her at her house and said "Wait until I call you before coming back over, we have visitors right now" Jennifer was to sneak over and change out two stem caps on whichever of the Marrok's vehicles was there. Jennifer agreed with a devil-may-care grin.

What Mercy didn't know was that Alex had noticed the modified stems after he had taken the Jeep's tires off the rims to find the perceived punctures. Alex phoned Bran to let him know that Leah had been a victim of a prank at least once but possibly twice. He wasn't able to check the ravaged tires of the Audi as they had already been sent off to be recycled. Bran thanked him and said he would pick up the newly re-inflated Jeep in a few hours.

Bran sat back in his office chair and steepled his fingers while staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. Really, there was only one likely suspect, and he would have to tell Leah and address the issue, but he was strangely reluctant to do so.

He liked his little coyote's fire, but her escapades were likely to get her burned. With a heavy sigh, he mentally called Leah to him, and after explaining Alex's phone call and forcibly cutting the detonator on Leah's impending nuclear explosion, Bran and Lean drove off to get some answers.

Mercy, just having the feeling that she needed to, stuck around the house after Jennifer left and did some baking with Evelyn. Coffee cake. Yum, one of her favorites!

At about four in the afternoon, a familiar car pulled into the drive and soon after, a knock came at the door. Mercy opened the door and saw Bran and Leah on the other side. Mercy smiled and chipped "Hi there, were you looking for Bryan?"

Bran gave a small smile and replied "No but why don't you go and get him anyway. There is something the four of us should discuss."

Mercy cocked her head to the side and frowned before saying "Ok, c'mon in and I'll go get him." The latter was unnecessary, as even from the basement Bryan could hear his Alpha's arrival. He came up the stairs and greeted Bran and Leah before asking what was going on. Bran gestured towards the kitchen table. Mercy excused herself for a moment to give Jennifer a heads up that she was currently occupied. S.O.S. call complete, Mercy and Evelyn served coffee, tea and coffee cake before Evelyn retreated to her sewing room.

After she left, and Mercy sat down, a long and awkward silence ensued. It was a well-known tactic of Bran's to use the unease of silence to do his work for him, but Mercy and Bryan just sat and sipped their drinks. To Mercy it seemed to take an hour, but it was only 20 minutes according to the kitchen clock when Bran finally spoke.

"I had an interesting talk with Alex Brown today. It seems that the Jeep yesterday and possibly the Audi were the objects of pranks that left the tires with air leaks causing them to go flat."

Bryan scoffed and took another sip of coffee before saying "Sounds like kids pulling pranks. Do you remember Mrs. Fuller's plastic flamingos that kept disappearing and reappearing all last year? Maybe the town needs to come up with something for the kids to do in the summer. Set up an obstacle course or something."

Bran had a faint smile and tilted his head to the side in concession. "It is something to look into for the future, but at the moment I'm more interested in these specific incidences. Mercy, you have been spending time around our vehicles this summer and I'm wondering if there is anything you should tell me?"

Mercy looked down at her teacup and muttered "Figures you would think it was me. " She then looked up at Bran's chin and said "Leah doesn't clear her schedule through me . . ." Mercy hastily added "as she shouldn't", as it was only Bran's restraining hand that kept a shaking Leah from diving across the table.

Mercy quickly added with the legitimate smell of anxiety coming off of her "What I mean is I don't know which vehicles will be there, or are going to be in use, when I come to wash them. I just hope to get as many of them at one time as possible. I didn't sabotage a vehicle of yours while washing it. I know it doesn't help you in believing me but I didn't see anyone else around your vehicles during the few hours I was there either."

The three wolves at the table could find no error in what she said, so Bryan inquired in a differential tone "Is there any evidence linking Mercy to the pranks besides that you pay her to wash your vehicles? She is in an ideal situation to get set up for these pranks and there are many that dislike her based on what she is."

Bran shook his head and said "Not at this time, so I will investigate the matter further. Please thank your mate for the tea and cake." Bran stood and stared forcefully at his mate who looked livid to be leaving without enacting some sort of painful retribution. She slowly rose and they all walked to the door with Mercy a few steps behind. Out on the porch, Bran and Leah stopped to stare at the Pontiac which sat at an angle with two driver side tires flat.

Three sets of eyes swung around at Mercy. She immediately took two steps back with her hands in the air and exclaimed "It wasn't me; I've been in the house all day!"

Leah immediately went off on a loud and imaginative tirade while Bryan offered to grab his air compressor from the basement. Mercy followed him inside and once the door was closed, he leaned down to her ear and whispered "You have got a serious set of brass ones girl, but watch yourself. Even those with the devil's own luck eventually run out of it."

**That's all for now folks, please review and let me know what you think!**

**Thanks to my unofficial betas! This one was fun to write but tripped me up at times.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again everyone! Thanks to those that reviewed, favorited and followed my story as your actions definitely feed my muse ****. This story is about Mercy and the Aspen Creek friendly neighbourhood vet. Thursdays seem to be working for me so I'll try to update once a week!**

**As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

**The Grass is Always Greener**

He leaned his forearms on the top board of the fence. He was staring intently at his charge that was currently standing immobile glaring right back at him. The Doc had a lot of experience in his life with stubborn creatures, and he saw all the signs indicating that this would be a drawn out battle of wills.

The battle seemed at a standstill when Doc Wallace noticed a sudden alertness in his patient just before a weight hit him in the back of each leg just below the knees that caused them to briefly buckle. His forearms kept him upright so he quickly regained his balance. He turned around and saw a few feet away a small coyote sitting back on its haunches with its tongue hanging out of one side of its mouth.

Doc Wallace chuckled and went down on one knee as the coyote came over to accept an ear scratch.

"Hey there Mercy-girl, what are you doing wandering out this far?"

The small farm they were on was about 20 miles as a crow flies from Aspen Creek, but substantially farther by back roads. Mercy ignored the question while she continued to bump her head against the arm and hand of one of her favorite people in town.

After a moment Doc Wallace leaned back on his heels and looked at her intently. Mercy stared back up at the portly balding man that had a genuine smile and twinkling blue eyes. He drawled "Since you're here, do you mind giving me a hand?"

Mercy stepped back, bounced on her hind feet for a moment and gave a yip. Doc Wallace turned around and looked back towards a paddock filled with about 25 sheep and one very ornery llama. He pointed with his chin to the llama and said "That's Jezebel and I came out last week to give her some stitches from a pretty nasty gash she got on her back leg. I need to see her walking and moving around a bit to see if she has any lingering strain or damage. Unfortunately she has just been standing there staring at me for the last 20 minutes. She's in there because llamas, alpacas, donkeys and mules hate any member of the canine family and they act as guard animals. If a coyote for example were to encroach in on the herd they are guarding, they will attack them and drive them away."

He turned around and in a serious tone said "Now I don't want you getting hurt so keep your distance girl. That llama is very good at her job! But, if you could use that natural ability of yours to ruffle some feathers I'd appreciate it."

Mercy smiled at the Doc, but then faced the paddock and hunched down. She wiggled her haunches to get into position before she bounded in between the two wood slats of the fence into the paddock. What the Doc didn't know was that Jezebel and Mercy were already well acquainted and had a colourful history of playing a high impact version of chicken. Mercy liked the challenge as llamas have a few unique tricks. Their front hooves are quite sharp and given the chance, the will flick them upwards to flip the animal onto their backs before trampling and slashing at them. Also they have a unique way of moving, as they commonly jump laterally and kick out to the back or side with their hind legs.

Mercy had no real designs on the sheep, but it was an entertaining game to her all the same. As Mercy slowly stalked around the outside edge of the paddock in the direction of the flock, she kept her eyes on the llama that had now extended her neck out and was walking on an intercept route between Mercy and the sheep.

Mercy picked up the pace a bit and started to lope toward the sheep and she heard the distinctive sharp whinnying cry of the llama and the sound of hooves starting to charge at her. Mercy heard Doc Wallace yell that it was enough and to get out of there, but she was just starting to have fun. She danced to the side out of the way of pawing hooves and loped around behind Jezebel to growl and yip at her before darting away again. Llamas' eyes are set more forward facing than most herbivores, so their field of view to their side and rear is far more limited than that of a horse for example. Mercy used that to encroach in on the llama before drawing it back and away from the herd.

By continuing to dart in and away from the disgruntled animal, she slowly led it back towards the fence near Doc Wallace. Feeling that it was time to end the game given their increasingly anxious spectator, Mercy, like her distant Border Collie cousins, bounded up to use the llama's back as a spring board before vaulting over the fence.

Mercy trotted back to sit beside Doc Wallace and looked up at him. He had stepped a few feet away from the fence and was breathing heavy with his hand over his heart. He rumbled out "You are scary beyond all reason girl, and the kicker is I can't even be mad at you for it". Mercy grinned up at him.

Just then, they saw movement out of the corner of their eyes and heard a deafening BANG. It appeared that Jezebel had taken offense to being smited in their game. She had turned around and taken out the bottom board and cracked the top of the fence with the force of Jezebel's kick with her back feet.

The herd of sheep had started to meander over to their protector, and true to form, they would soon be enticed by the grass that must be greener on the other side of the mangled fence. Jezebel, like most llamas, stood over six feet tall, so she wasn't able to escape the paddock, but her more diminutive charges would easily be able.

Doc Wallace sighed and looked down at Mercy. He said "I can't believe I'm asking this after what just happened, but can you play sheepdog for a few minutes while I go and find some materials from the barn to patch up that hole?"

Mercy grinned. He nodded and muttered "Watch yourself, I really don't want to think up a way to explain this to Bran."

Mercy wiggled her haunches and got ready for round two.

**Thanks for reading along! Send me a review or PM if you have a character in mind. See you next week and Happy Labour Day Everyone!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello All! This one was finished a little early (thanks to the long weekend up here) so I figured why just sit on it till Thursday?! This tale is about Bryan. He is a character that I always felt the reader gets a sense of through his actions, without actually knowing much specifically about him in the Mercy Thompson books, so here is my take.**

**In this chapter I do mention firearms, ammunition, and possible harm to wild animals. It is done with the intent of personal protection as opposed to hunting for sport or meat so please don't send PETA after me!**

**As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

**Don't Poke the Bear!**

Mercy lay on her stomach in the grass of the backyard. She was watching a fuzzy black and yellow caterpillar make his way from the long grass to the tree trunk beside her. She would stroke his back every once in a while and watch his long white whiskers twitch when she did.

She had been told once that those particular caterpillars were called Spotted Tussock Caterpillars and after their metamorphosis they turn into an ugly moth that are destructive and eat fabric. Mercy took that particular statement with a grain of salt, as she knew all too well that some figured that anything that got in their way for any reason meant that they were without value and ought to be destroyed. Mercy believed what Reverend Mitchell said about everything having a purpose and she figured that was true for this fuzzy little guy as well. Good karma had to work in the animal kingdom too, right?

He had made it to the tree so Mercy rolled over and just lounged in the sun. She had dozed off in the first warm April day when she was awoken from her siesta by her foster father Bryan.

"Mercy-girl come in here I need to talk to you."

Mercy did a quick mental review and didn't think she had done anything recently to warrant getting yelled at, so she rolled over, got up and stretched, then jogged into the house.

Bryan was waiting by the door to the basement, and he did a head tilt toward it and walked down the stairs. Mercy heaved a dramatic sigh and ambled down the stairs after him. When Mercy reached the bottom she headed around the stairs to the unfinished area of the basement that Bryan used as a work area.

Along the outside walls were various meticulously placed hand tools that he used for woodworking. Bryan, like many old wolves, had saved enough over the years to not need to continually work, but his nature didn't allow him to sit around idly. Therefore his main hobby had become making custom cabinets for people. He owned and used more modern tools and machines, but he told Mercy once that wood was warm and he liked to work with it under his own two hands as much as possible. He had also made a few of the furniture pieces in the house, like the rocking chair and end tables, but that was just done for fun.

The gun safe in the corner was open and empty while Bryan's four firearms were laid out on the large island workstation in the middle of the area. Perfectly parallel across the workstation were the Remmington Bushmaster shotgun, the Marlin 444, the Model 29 Smith & Wesson, and the Sig Sauer. Mercy looked up at Bryan and quirked an eyebrow. She already knew how to break down and clean all of the guns on the table so she was now curious as to what this was about.

Bryan pointed at the three legged stool across from his own and Mercy hopped up onto it. He broke the silence and said "There have been a few black bear sightings in the last week or two, and today little Harrison was out playing with Jerome Black by the creek north of town and they stumbled onto and startled a bear taking a drink. The bear charged them but they made enough of a commotion that it got annoyed and ambled away."

Bryan was in the upper middle of the pack in Aspen Creek, and the intentness and strength he was putting behind his look at her had Mercy knowing that his protective side was out in full force. She wisely lowered her eyes to his chest.

If she hadn't caught on before to the seriousness of his intent, his next word would have definitely clued her in.

"Mercedes, it was a long and cold winter this year and the bears that have been waking up are hungry and ornery, and you are NOT to take the latter as a personal invitation for entertainment! I have never outright tried to stop you from rattling the chains of those who rattle yours, but this is different. The threat of retribution from Bran, Samuel and I will not stop a bear that you have harassed from attacking you. Harrison Sr. and a couple of the other pack members are going out to track it and drive it away from town, but there may be more in the area waking up over the next few weeks. I don't want you out looking for any more trouble than you get into on a regular day!"

Mercy looked up at her foster father. Outwardly, he was the type of person that you might look past in a crowd, but one on one he would never escape your notice. He had vibrant hazel eyes with a ring of amber around the iris that extended outward as his wolf came to the forefront. His brown hair was a few inches long and tended to fall haphazardly, however it usually covered a long scar that ran along his hairline from his widow's peak to his temple. It had been made in his youth by the splintering of the mainsail struck by cannonball.

He wasn't a terribly tall man, as he had been born in an era where a lack of proper nutrition hadn't allowed many to reach towering heights. But despite his height, there had always been such a solid and strong presence to him. To those who didn't know him well, he may have come across as standoffish but really he was just very aware and few things missed his notice. He may not be prone to talking about his thoughts and feelings (I guess that British stiff upper lip of old never truly left) but he understood people, and he understood her.

Mercy nodded her head. It was true that it would have been far easier for Bryan to try and curb the fire in her that just didn't allow her to take things lying down with her belly up to the world. But he never had. He had tried to give her all the tools he could to help her keep herself safe. He had long ago taught her to shoot, and had mock fought with her in his large grey werewolf form so that she had learnt to use her speed and maneuverability to her best advantage. Bryan in his over 200 years of life had learned a thing or two about survival that he seemed intent to pass on to her. He had taught her to use her head when others were using their emotions, and to put herself in situations that capitalize on her strengths not prey on her weaknesses.

He understood that there was just enough _other _in her that meant no matter where she ended up in life, not always will she be able to pass by unnoticed by the supernatural world. And in that supernatural world, Mercy would always be fighting out of her weight class.

Mercy asked "So what's with the guns?"

Bryan nodded with the understanding that she had taken what he had said to heart. "I've taught you how to use these and load them for werewolf but I'm going to give you the run down on what to use if you have to use them on bear. For the Bushmaster, instead of using silver double ought buck, use the Remmington rifled slugs. For the Marlin, instead of the solid silver bullet use the Federal 300 grain hollow points. Obviously go for the shotgun or the Marlin first if you need to protect yourself, but if all you have is the handguns, for the Model 29 use the Hornady 240 Grain semi jacketed hollow points and the Winchester Western full metal jackets for the Sig. With those, aim for the face and hopefully you will hurt them enough to drive them away, but anywhere else will just piss them off."

He had pulled out each ammunition and put it behind each gun as he explained. Bryan made Mercy repeat back to him which ammunition was for which and demonstrated loading each one. The loading demonstration wasn't necessary as Mercy had long since gotten a handle it, but Bryan wasn't in the habit of leaving things unnecessarily to chance. They went over things for the next half hour or so until Evelyn called them up for supper.

Mercy did spend the next few days close by the yard or within the town limits, but after a particularly aggravating conversation with a fascist member of the town, she went for a quick run to beat down her temper under the pads of her feet. About a mile south of Charles' horse pasture, Mercy came around a patch of fir trees and skidded immediately to a stop. About 50 feet in front of her stood a yearling black bear pulling apart a rotten log to get at bugs within it.

The bear looked up at her briefly, but seemingly unconcerned went back to disassembling its meal. Mercy backed up and crouched down underneath the fir tree. Prudent thought would dictate that she should turn tail and go find a responsible adult to tell. But on the other hand, more information is always a good thing, so sticking around to observe for a bit couldn't hurt right? Also thinking logically, watching from a safe distance wasn't harassing, and it was just an adolescent bear so it wasn't as dangerous as a full grown one would be. Mercy laid down, put her head down on her paws and settled in to what she figured could be seen as a public service.

About 10 minutes later, Mercy heard a slow lumbering gate coming up from behind her. She peeked around and saw what appeared to be momma bear heading on an intercept course to her young, with Mercy between the two. Sending out a string of curses in her mind, Mercy darted out from under the tree and looped around the side of the momma bear before heading towards Charles' house. Just as she was passing, the adult bear she let out a loud bellow.

"Ah crap, someone will have heard that and now I'll be in shit" Mercy muttered internally as she headed away. She somehow didn't think she would be able to sell the public service point of view.

**Thanks for reading along! Reviews always appreciated and I need some ideas for other characters to do one of these on. I have the next couple outlined in my head but after that I'm drawing a blank. Let me know in a review or PM me!**

**Cheers,**

**Megz**

**A/N : No animal is inherently dangerous or evil, but under the right circumstances even a quokka (if you don't know what that is, google it **** ) could pose some level of threat. For bears, most incidences of bear attacks have occurred when they have just woken up from hibernation and are starving or when they are acting in reaction to a perceived threat to themselves or their young**.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello All!**

**A big thanks to Nightly Rowan Tree, babesrus2, and Fiction111 for their steady reviews. You feed my muse with your kindness and encouragement!**

**Mercy in many of the books uses baking as a means of stress relief, and I figured that had to come from somewhere so this one is a scene with Evelyn and Mercy experimenting with the healing properties of chocolate and other baked goods ;)**

**As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs, and if you haven't yet be sure to pick up Shifting Shadows! **

**When Stressed and in Doubt, Cupcake it Out**

Mercy stormed in the front door and slammed it with a bang. If Bryan had been home she knew that she would be in for a lecture, but his truck hadn't been in the driveway when she had sprinted up it full tilt.

She just stood on the mat with her eyes closed and hands fisted at her sides while she breathed forcefully in and out through her nose. She had been standing in that position for close to a minute when Evelyn came around the corner from her kitchen after she hadn't heard any more footsteps. It wasn't the first, nor likely to be that last time that Mercy returned enraged to one of her few sanctuaries in their town.

Evelyn broke the charged silence and said "Well something good might as well come out of whatever it is that happened. Come with me my girl." At that she turned around and headed back into her kitchen.

Mercy kept her eyes closed but lowered her chin to her chest and took one more deep breath. She opened her eyes, toed off her running shoes and walked into the kitchen. She looked at her foster mother who had her back turned while pulling out a few bowls from the cupboard. Her long hair was up in a loose bun and it had the beginning of salt and pepper streaks running through it. If she turned around, Mercy would see crow's feet at the edges of warm honey brown eyes.

Evelyn was a petite woman and Mercy had been taller than her since the seventh grade, but she had never needed height nor dominance to make Mercy listen to her. If Bryan was the head of the family, Evelyn was undoubtedly the heart and Mercy followed her because she was just one of those people who made you want to.

Mercy walked over and washed her hands before she came up beside her foster mother. Evelyn pointed to some dough on top of a sprinkling of flour sitting on the counter and she said "Knead that for me will you dear. Dough has been a baker's punching bag since its invention. Might was well take out some frustration and get something tasty out of the deal." Evelyn didn't say anything further and just left Mercy to herself as she went back to prepping ingredients for the next recipe.

Mercy went over and started folding and punching the dough on the counter. Each time she punched it, she imagined one of the faces of a player in her disaster of a day and released a little bit of tension. Sometime later, Evelyn came over and greased up some pans and together they separated the dough into loaves and covered them to let them rise.

Next Evelyn set Mercy up grating zucchini for the chocolate zucchini cake. The repetitive motion had Mercy relaxing further and she began to relay the events of her day. None of it was a singularly unique event. It's not uncommon for the narrow-minded discrimination of one generation to be passed down to the next, but for the most part Mercy was left alone by the other kids in her class. However, every once in a while, a few would take it upon themselves to forcibly drive home the point that she wasn't wanted and would never belong among them.

Evelyn listened while she was mixing ingredients together and after a few minutes of silence she spoke. "Sometimes the hardest thing for someone to change is their mind. Some folks will take what they think they know and cling to it and it will remain their truth even if they learn things contrary to it. It tends to get worse as people get older, and as you know there is a lot of _older_ going on in this town. Its people who don't just look around and just see what they expect to see that you want in your life. The ones that actually see and try to understand what is around them will truly acknowledge and appreciate your worth. Let those people close to you and care what they think."

From Evelyn's tone, Mercy knew she was meant to hear "AND TO HELL WITH THE REST" at the end, even if the rules of decorum would never allow her to utter them out loud. Instead she gave Mercy a hip bump as she said it, which made Mercy smile and bump her back. Message was received.

The two worked on in companionable silence broken only by Evelyn occasionally whistling as she worked. The bread and cake were cool and put away, the cookies were almost done, and Evelyn was midway through the theme song for Cheers when she and Mercy heard Bryan's truck pull into the drive. Without a hitch in the tune, Evelyn swept some flour off the counter into her hand and hit Mercy in the face with it.

Mercy coughed a few times and looked at her foster mother with a completely dumbfounded expression. Evelyn stopped whistling and looked her right in the eye and said with a straight-face "You should always look like you accomplished something in the kitchen; otherwise the men just think we sit around idle and gab".

Bryan came in the door a few minutes later to the sound of gales of laughter amid occasional fits of coughing. He looked around the corner to see his mate and daughter leaning against the counter holding their stomachs. They, and the room around them, looked like it had been dusted for prints and there was still a white haze of powder in the air.

Bryan smiled as he shook his head and retreated to his basement. In all the ways that really mattered, his loved ones were well.

**Thanks everyone for following along on another tale with me, please let me know what you thought!**

**Cheers,**

**Megz**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello All!**

**Sorry for the delay on posting this one, but when my usual day rolled around I wasn't quite happy with it yet. On the upside it is much longer than my average one!**

**Ok, this one deals with an OC and it was inspired by the suggestions of a couple of my wonderful reviewers and my teacher from Grade 5. There are many pretty amazing teachers out there that go so far beyond what is specifically required of them to make learning interesting, engaging and exciting. They help us become better people and foster our confidence in ourselves to dare to dream and put in the work to make it a reality. Unfortunately like many other professions, sometimes people stay in them too long. In this case, a teacher that continues to teach even after they have lost the motivation to do the best they can for their students has a detrimental impact on them. On the whole teachers are an amazing group of people that deserve more appreciation and recognition for the work that they do, but this story is about an exception to that rule and how Mercy deals with it.**

**As always, everything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

**Adversity is the Mother of Invention**

The locker slammed with enough force that the things on the top shelf within it could be heard falling over.

"That's it, I'm done!"

Jennifer looked over at her friend Mercy and frowned before she muttered "Damn, I lost that bet with myself. I gave you another day before you threw down the declaration of war!"

Mercy had been in the middle of forcefully contorting her hair into a high ponytail with jerky movements that exhibited her frustration when her friend had spoken. At hearing her words, Mercy instead took the elastic band off her wrist and shot it at Jennifer. She yelped in surprise at the sting and rubbed her shoulder while giving Mercy a glare.

Mercy looked her in the eye and simply said "You in?"

Jennifer gave a devil may care grin and asked "What have you got in mind?"

~oOo~

The previous Friday, Mercy and Jennifer's homeroom teacher, Mrs. Bell, had left sick midway through the day. The town being remote as it was didn't have time to bring in a substitute to cover classes in the afternoon so some students had been dismissed early.

Mrs. Bell taught the freshmen and sophomores English and History as well as Creative Writing and Art to any that elected to take it. She was a kind and energetic person who was enthusiastic about the subjects she taught. This in turn made the students excited about learning them. Mrs. Bell took a genuine interest in her students and was a general favorite among the entire school.

Mercy had found out through Bran when he had come over that evening, that Samuel wouldn't be coming over for their movie marathon as he was still at the clinic after doing an emergency appendectomy on her teacher that evening. Apparently the situation was serious as her appendix had burst and Samuel would be on hand at the clinic until Mrs. Bell was out of the woods. Bran had been at the clinic for a while also since Mrs. Bell's husband Jeremy was pack and he had not been handling his mate's life threatening situation well. Samuel really hadn't needed the distraction of keeping him in line while operating.

When Samuel finally made it over on Sunday night to spend time with Mercy, he passed on that it had been touch and go for a while, but in a few weeks her teacher should be back in the classroom none the worse for wear.

Mercy relayed what she had learned during the weekend to her friend Jennifer before class on Monday morning.

"Well that sucks, but I'm glad she's going to be ok. I wonder who we're gunna get stuck with until she's back? Miss Cook is already covering Mrs. Holman's mat leave."

It was a valid question that Mercy had been pondering and she'd come up with nothing. There were only a couple of teachers in the area that would come in as substitutes and they were both unable to take on Mrs. Bell's classes. Miss Cook was already teaching and Mr. Alexander was a science and math teacher.

Mercy and Jennifer found out the answer to that question an hour later when they walked into their English class. At the front of the room was an older woman with ink black hair pulled back in a tight bun wearing horn rimmed glasses. She was slowly flipping through a grammar textbook and whenever she looked up from it over the top of her glasses she had a scowl on her face.

They sat in their usual seats along the far wall, and a moment later when the bell rang, the teacher at the front snapped the textbook she was holding closed and started taking roll call. After she finished she barked "Children, get out your notebooks and textbooks for this class. These actions do not require talking. My name is Ms. Wright and I will be your teacher until Mrs. Bell returns. You appear to be behind in reaching curricular outcomes so expect more homework than you are apparently used to in order to catch up to where this class should be at this point in the year."

Mercy's eyebrows shot right up as she looked over at Jennifer. This Ms. Wright couldn't have more effectively made a group of teenagers instantly hate her if she had tried! Granted they were not legal adults, but at 16 most of the class had a driver's license, and had a part time job or at least took care of younger siblings. Children? Seriously? On top of that you make a not-so-veiled criticism about all of them and their teacher that they love. Wow . . . Just . . . Wow . . .

Jennifer quirked one eyebrow at Mercy, and then donned her eerily genuine looking mask of polite attention. Almost two painful hours later the bell finally rang for lunch. It had become vividly apparent that Ms. Wright had taken one look at them slouching in their seats in their acid wash jeans, converse runners, bright colours and loud shirts and found them wanting. As Jennifer stood up and collected her things. She murmured "I'm on it."

Jennifer ran in just after the bell rang for their first class in the afternoon. She called out cheerfully "Sorry Mr. Binner!" in a tone that Evelyn had always said covers a multitude of sins. After roll call they split up into partners to work on their biology project.

"Alright spill. Where did they find her and how can we return to sender?"

Jennifer chuckled "I heard that she moved to a family owned acreage about 30 miles away about a year ago. She had just retired from working at an all-girls school on the east coast." She had badminton practice at lunch, and her coach was usually a soft touch for her to get information out of.

Mercy retorted "Oh perfect".

The next two days were an ever-increasing tirade of criticism over the class's lack of discipline and work ethic. What finally pushed Mercy over the edge happened on Wednesday. Ms. Wright brought in her filing cabinet of "superior teaching materials" as she refused to follow "the existing standard of coddling children into reaching a lacklustre mediocrity of comprehension" and assigned the class yet another three hours' worth of homework.

That night at the motel as she was manning the front desk, Mercy made a list of what she knew about her foe. She was fanatically organized (because having separate holders for different colours of pens was obviously necessary). She demanded silence from the students at all times unless they were asked a direct question. She hated to be questioned, corrected or contradicted and was very insistent on being treated respectfully. Tyler had learned that lesson for them all when he got detention for calling her Ms. W. Overkill much!

In short, she was anal and controlling and at some point in her career had stopped liking students if she had ever liked them to begin with. It shouldn't be that hard to push her over the edge and send her permanently back into retirement. By the end of her shift Mercy's diabolical wheels had definitely been spinning and she had a plan in place.

After work, Mercy went home and went downstairs into Bryan's workshop. She had only gone down here a dozen times since he died. In the beginning it had been too painful to be swamped by memories of her foster father working on some project while Mercy sat on a stool chattering away to him. It hadn't mattered what the subject she had been talking about, as it always seemed that if Mercy had deemed something important enough to say, Bryan considered it important enough to listen. It didn't hurt as much anymore and time had dulled the pain of being abandoned for the second time in her life. Now the memories made her smile more than they made her want to cry.

Mercy opened the cabinets and grabbed the expanding superglue that Bryan used in dowel holes, a box of single use rubber gloves that he used when staining wood, and a Philips, Blade and Robertson screwdriver. She took the items upstairs and dropped them on the coffee table before heading outside to Evelyn's garden shed. She dug around in behind the pots and tools until Mercy found the bag she was looking for. It was only 1/4 full so she took the entire bag inside. She grabbed a small but very strong magnet off the fridge and added it and the bag to the pile on the table.

Jennifer had another badminton practice after school and she had sweet talked the caretaker into letting her into Mrs. Bell's room to get a textbook she forgot there. She opened one of the window locks before leaving. Mercy planned to visit the room in the middle of the night, so she set her alarm for 3am and crashed.

Despite the intense desire to throw the alarm at the wall, Mercy was up and making her way to the school just after 3 o'clock the next morning. She slunk along the shadows and kept her eyes and ears open for anyone watching. When she got to the school, Mercy put on the rubber gloves and used a stick to wedge the window open before hopping inside.

Once inside Mercy took off her backpack and pulled out a few items. She took the clock off the wall and put the magnet onto the back underneath the lining. Next she took out the expanding super glue and put a thick layer all around the outside of the drawers of Ms. Wright's filing cabinet. She then took the glue over to the door, unlocked and opened it. Mercy put a generous amount inside the hole in the strike plate where the latch would sit when the door is closed. The glue would expand and set by the time everyone arrived in the morning, and both would need some serious work to get them open. She took the planner off the desk and hid it behind the row of extra textbooks on a shelf at the back of the room on her way out. Mercy slunk away from the school with a grin on her face.

When Mercy walked into the school the next day, the rumor mill was visibly churning and more than a few high fives were being exchanged. She learned soon after walking in the door that the freshmen had first period off as the lock for Mrs. Bell's class was broken and they weren't able to get the door open. Joel the daytime caretaker had already left to get tools from the hardware store to dismantle the lock. Mercy and Jennifer shared a conspiratorial smile and headed to their first class.

An hour later when they made it to their second period with Ms. Wright, they joined the rest of the class standing against the lockers opposite the room. Joel had disassembled the lock and was striking the latch with a mallet and chisel trying to break the seal the glue had on the lock. Ms. Wright was not concealing her anger as she stood to the side and alternated glaring at the door and Joel, and the students in the hall.

About 10 minutes into the period, Joel was able to get the latch lose and swung the door open. Ms. Wright sharply ordered everyone into the room and to their seats. Mercy noticed with glee that the classroom clock was running at least 10 minutes fast.

Ms. Wright was looking around for her planner, and Mercy wouldn't give her much credit but their sub was quick on the uptake. Mercy saw the moment she connected the dots. Her skin reddened and with the look she was giving the class, Mercy had no doubt that she would gladly take the yardstick to each and everyone in the room if she thought she could get away with it.

When Ms. Wright went to open her filing cabinet and tugging a few times rendered no result, the muffled laughter of the class proved the tipping point. She shrieked "You think that the willful destruction of property is amusing you juvenile delinquents? If I find out which of you did this, detention will be the least of your concerns. Turn to chapter 9 NOW".

The period proceeded with a flustered Ms. Wright scrambling to dictate at the front. Forty minutes later Marie raised her hand, pointed at the clock and asked if they should get out their history texts.

"The bell has not rung yet, continue with your work."

Another student piped up "They won't ring the bells today. The music classes are doing their mid-term test and they don't want to interrupt whoever's playing."

Ms. Wright's mouth formed a thin line. Due to the issues involving her door that morning, the substitute hadn't spent any time in the staff room where notices like what was described would be posted. With ill humour she directed the class to change subjects. The class left the room when the wall clock reached the lunch hour. Mercy and Jennifer joined in with their classmates laughing at Ms. Wright's expense as they split off to enjoy their extra free time.

When Mercy got home after school, Samuel was sitting on the couch reading a book. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her bags at the door before ambling over and flopping down with her temple against his arm. Without looking up from his page Samuel inquired "Do I want to know anything about the interesting array of items on your coffee table?"

Mercy smiled and shook her head. "Someone once told me that plausible deniability in matters of a grey nature is very important. However I may have a story to tell in a few days if I can borrow your lock picks."

The last statement made his head jerk away from the book and look down intently at her. He had taught Mercy on a particularly bad day less than a month after she had lost Bryan as a last ditch distraction technique. His reasoning at the time had been that it was just another skill set to have in order to get you out of a bad situation, but knowing full well that it was just as likely to get her into one.

Samuel gave a devilish grin "Are you sure you don't need a partner in crime?" He was partially interested in joining in because of his love of a good prank, but he also wanted to keep an eye on one of the few people he truly called his own.

Mercy smirked as she looked up at him. "I happen to have one of those and we've got it handled, but if I send out the SOS call to you tomorrow at the clinic just roll with whatever BS I'm selling ok?"

Samuel nodded content enough to be a safety net should there be the need. "I'll drop them over later tonight."

Mercy had picked up the last piece of the devious puzzle from a hiding spot in Jennifer's backyard before heading back over to the school again at O dark thirty. She checked the window and unsurprisingly it had been locked again from the inside. Mercy went around to a rarely used back door. She crouched down and hummed quietly as she coerced the lock open.

Once inside the building, she made her way to the storage room in the same hall as Mrs. Bell's classroom. Among other things, it was the room that held the overhead projectors when they were not in use. She removed the light bulbs from every one and took the box of spares off of the shelf and hid them all in a box of miscellaneous extension cords along the wall.

Next, she made her way down to Mrs. Bell's classroom that was still missing a door knob. Mercy put on another pair of gloves and pulled a bag out of her backpack. She took a few poison ivy leaves and smeared them on Ms. Wright's coffee cup, stapler, light switch and anything else that came to mind that only she would be likely to touch. Touching the spores that cause the reaction second hand would be enough to cause an annoying rash but just a minor one.

Finally, Mercy removed four mesh boxes with very small openings from the bag she picked up from Jennifer. Jennifer's brother Geordie had a Bearded Dragon and he kept live crickets to feed it. In each of the boxes were about four crickets. Geordie was a freshman and was more than willing to donate a few to what he deemed to be a very worthy cause.

Mercy took the screwdrivers and after picking the right one, she opened the register vent covers and slid three of the four just far enough down to not be reachable but still be heard. Mercy stood on top of a desk and removed a dropped ceiling tile before putting the final box above the adjacent tile.

Mercy stole the last bulb from the projector that Ms. Wright had used every day for the last week before gathering everything up and heading for home.

Mercy was purposely 15 minutes late for school the next day and she took a detour past the staff portion of the parking lot before heading in. The lot was beside the gymnasium, so as long as someone didn't come out one of the doors at an inopportune moment, she was not visible to anyone looking out a window and should be in the clear. She took the partial bag of bird seed from her backpack and poured it along the top and bottom edge of the windshield and any other part of Ms. Wright's car that would catch and hold the seed in place. It was late enough in the spring that most of the song and seasonal birds had returned, and Mercy was sure that they would appreciate the snack.

She made her apologies at the front office, accepted her detention slip and headed to class and to watch the fireworks that would undoubtedly be worth the hour after school.

When Mercy walked into her second period class and couldn't supress a smile. The sound of chirping was prevalent throughout the entire room and Ms. Wright was at the front writing out notes off of a transparency sheet in her hands. The overhead projector was pushed into the corner and another one was sitting beside it. Ms. Wright would stop writing on the board every minute or so and clench and unclench her hands. When the bell rang the class heard the chipped command "Start taking these notes down."

Unfortunately for her, the entire class could smell blood in the water, and Miles held his textbook up in the air while the Ms. Wright's back was turned and counted down in the air with his other hand 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 **BANG**.

Ms. Wright jumped up in the air and screamed at the loud noise of all the textbooks almost simultaneously hitting the floor. She spun around ready to reprimand the group when there was a knock at the door. She stiffly walked to the door and ripped it open by the open hole in the wood. Joel the caretaker stood there and he looked very uncomfortable.

Her composure cracking, she rudely barked "Yes, what do you want?"

Joel cleared his throat. "I checked with the general and the farm stores in the area, and there isn't any pesticide that would work for crickets that can be used indoors at any of them. One of them offered to order it but it will take two weeks to come in. So unless we catch them or they disperse to other areas of the school you're gunna be stuck with the sound for a bit."

With a jaw clenched tight, Ms. Wright bit out, "Well thank you for that useless bit of problem solving Mr. Arnold, was there another reason you are standing there or do you just enjoy wasting my time?"

Joel nodded and said "As I was coming back from the store I noticed something was . . . umm . . . happening to your car. You may want to take it to Alex's tire shop so he can power wash it for you."

"WHAT?"

Ms. Wright brushed past Joel on the way to the doors nearest the parking lot. Not wanting to miss out on this, the entire class got up and followed about 50 feet behind her. When they came outside and around the corner of the gym, they saw a yelling and flailing Ms. Wright standing a few feet away from her car that had close to 20 crows sitting on it and eating the seeds. The roof, hood and trunk of the car were covered in bird shit.

The class couldn't keep it together and they burst out laughing at the sight. Many had tears running down their faces and were holding their stomachs when Mr. Jamieson the Principal came outside and demanded to know what was going on.

Miles was one of the wittier members of their grade and he was also one of the few not laughing quite hard enough to have lost the power of speech so he answered "Just witnessing a murder Mr. J!"

That prompted a panicked look on Mr. Jamieson's face and he jogged over to where the class was standing. He came to an abrupt halt at the scene of Ms. Wright yelling and flailing her arms at the birds occupying the top of her car.

Ms. Wright turned around, pointed a finger and shrieked at the assembled group "This school is the biggest insult to academia I have ever encountered in 38 years of teaching! The students are disrespectful and undisciplined delinquents and mark my words will all grow up to be drains on society. This entire teaching environment is toxic and I refuse to be part of it a moment longer. I'll arrange to have my materials picked up."

With that she ripped her keys out of her pocket, separated the ones for the school before throwing them on the ground. She spun around and opened her car door amid the flapping, got in and drove off in a hail of birdseed, cawing and a procession of crows following behind.

After a moment the principal stepped forward to pick up the keys on the asphalt. When he turned around he stared back forcefully at the students in front of him, most of whom were still bent over gasping for breath. In a commanding tone he called out "Go back to your class and gather your possessions. You will not make a disturbance in the hallways while classes are in session and you will meet in the library for your third period class. You will all be slated for a half hour of detention at the end of the day. Now!"

The class collected themselves and went off to do as they were told, all the while joking and doing wild imitations of their dearly departed substitute.

After Mercy finished work at the motel that night she came home to Samuel once again in her living room, this time with the game Battleship on the couch beside him. Mercy quirked an eyebrow as she sat down on the other end of the couch.

"There's a pizza in the oven and I thought we'd play while we wait."

Mercy shrugged her shoulders and pulled her game board towards herself. As she was positioning her ships she saw Samuel take one off his board, put three red pegs in it and put it over on the coffee table.

"What are you doing" she questioned.

Samuel smiled and winked before he replied " You've already proven you can sink a sub today, and you're playing against me so I'm giving you a handicap!"

Mercy snorted " B 7 funny man".

"Miss, A 3"

**A/N : Thanks to everyone for reading another tale of mine, please be sure to review and let me know what you thought! I'll try to have another one out in about a week.**

**Cheers!**

**Megz**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello All!**

**Sorry about the delay but a straight week of +30 degree temperatures at the end of September hijacked my productivity and forced me to put some more kilometers on my motorcycle before I packed it away for the year!**

**This chapter is about Margi and what I imagine her visits could have been like when Mercy was growing up in Aspen Creek. **

**As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

******The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Scary**

Mercy always looked forward to and dreaded this time of year. Her Mom kept in touch all year by making sure to call a few times a month, but if she was going to visit, she would come towards the end of summer. Mercy had never doubted that her Mom loved her, but their worlds were just a little too far apart for her Mom to truly understand who she was much of the time.

Margi's attempts to find common ground between them had mixed results. Mercy thought back on one of the more notable disasters that happened when she was eight. Her mom was commenting about how quickly she was growing into a young lady, and while doing so she was holding Mercy's hands and exclaimed how long and graceful her fingers were. The next day, Margi sought out someone in Aspen Creek to give her piano and voice lessons. She had loved them when she was a girl and was sure it would be one of her daughter's hidden talents.

Mercy had been stuck with them for three years because despite Bryan and Evelyn knowing that their foster daughter was a tom-boy through and through, they hadn't felt it right to drive a wedge between mother and daughter when geography, environment, culture, appearance and even species already did. The mother-daughter duets Margi originally envisioned never occurred.

However, some of her other attempts at bonding were more successful. When Mercy was eleven, she invited her mom out to see the tree-house that she had just finished building. Margi gamely put her hair up in a bandanna, changed into dark green corduroy pants, and threw on some sneakers and followed her daughter into the woods behind Bryan and Evelyn's house.

After a short hike, Mercy brought her mom to a small grove of white elm trees. The grove was part way up a small ridge that looked down onto the scattered buildings that made up the town.

She started to explain with barely contained excitement how she had positioned the supports and braces to steady the platform that stood above them about 15 feet in the air. It was obvious that she had had some help along the way, but by her descriptions and excitement Margi could tell that she had been a big part of the project, and was proud of her contributions.

Mercy stopped talking and ran a couple of trees over and pulled a cord hidden there. Margi jumped back as a rope ladder tumbled down from a small open box bolted to the bottom of the house.

"I didn't want anybody going up there to break it so Bryan designed a hidden pulley that runs over to the next tree that releases the ladder" Mercy explained.

"But how do you get down after you have stowed the ladder?" Margi inquired.

Mercy shrugged and pointed to a branch about nine feet in the air "I can jump from there."

Margi looked intently at her daughter and realized that the vast majority of the people in her daily life would be able to jump down from the house or the branch below it without issue.

Choosing to focus on the fact that in some small ways her daughter did fit in here, instead of the ways she herself did not, Margi smiled and said "Well you'll have to wait until after I climb down. Shall we?"

Mercy beamed and started racing up the rope ladder while her Mom followed at a more cautious pace. Once they were both up in the tree-house Margi looked around the space as Mercy explained what they had done.

The space was fairly large and had a semi-private five foot walls around it. The boards of the walls were an alternating 2" by 4" and 2" by 2" design with a gaps in between. The design blocked most of the wind but not all and was not so rigid that the structure could not flex a bit in the changing weather through the year. The corner posts extended up another foot and a half and a removable canvas tarp was hooked at both sides. The canvas was draped over a cord that ran between two branches above their heads to make a shallow A frame.

Margi gave her daughter a hug and congratulated her on a building a wonderful tree house. She then asked "What do you want to do up here now that it's done?" The space was a completely blank slate.

Mercy looked around. They had just finished a few days before and she had yet to bring anything up here. Mercy shrugged her shoulders " Read, watch the clouds and stars . . . get away when I need to."

Margi quirked an eyebrow and asked " And you were planning on doing all of that lying and sitting on a wood floor? How about we pick up some things. What colours do you like? Orange, red and gold for fall or brown, green and blue for the summer?"

An hour later they had climbed, and jumped, down from the tree house and were driving to Missoula to outfit Mercy's new hideaway.

They found a home decor store and they went though every isle. They butt tested beanbag chairs, found some over-sized cushions in earth tones, and Margi insisted on picking up a couple of emerald and turquoise vases with fake flowers in them. Add to that a couple of plastic but not tacky folding end tables, and the two left the store, and a very flustered sales rep, with more items for a lower price than if they had gone to a surplus discount outlet.

Once they got back to Aspen Creek, Margi cornered Bryan (a feat most five foot nothing humans should avoid) and maneuvered him into making a wood chest to protect the cushions etc. and would also work as a table. She encouraged him to use any design his carpentry inclined mind so desired, as long at it was 5' by 3' by 3', had a waterproof liner, a flat top, vine or leaf carvings of the corners and along the top edge, and it would be ready before she left in four days. She praised him on how much Mercy would love it before she blew away like a summer breeze.

The day before Margi left that year, she helped Mercy host an invite-only tree-house warming party. Evelyn, Mercy and Margi made snacks and sun tea and Samuel, Bran, Charles, Doc Wallace and his wife, as well as a couple of Mercy's school friends came by to congratulate the new tree-house owner! Mercy accepted the thanks and spent the day climbing in the limbs of the elm with her friends until Bryan herded them back to the platform with his rusty but still passable mast climbing skills.

With the help of a few werewolves bringing it up, Margi and Bryan presented her with the wood chest and enthusiastic hugs were given to all those in attendance in Mercy's excitement.

Years later it would be one of the things that she was truly saddened to lose in the fire that burnt down her single wide trailer. It represented a memory of a time when all the people she loved were together and she was completely happy.

Mercy was sitting on the couch reminiscing when her Mom came out of the spare room and sat down at the kitchen table. She pulled a deck of cards out of the box and started sorting them as she spoke "C'mon over here my girl. I'm going to teach you to play and cheat at Kaiser so we can beat Bran and Leah after supper tonight."

Mercy gave a violent shudder. If this evening ended without blood on the floor, she would tell Reverend Mitchell she officially believed in miracles!

**Many thanks to those who read and review!**

**Cheers,**

**Megz**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello All!**

**I've been thinking about what to write for Bran ever since I posted my first chapter, and none of my ideas seemed substantial enough to be worthy of the Marrok. A few days ago an offhanded thought sent me on a furious writing rampage which led to the one-shot below. I'm still not sure it's worthy of a character as brilliantly written as Bran, but I hope you enjoy reading it in any case.**

**As always, anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

**Yesterday is History, Tomorrow is a Mystery, and Today I Have to Buy a Gift**

Bran jogged down the stairs to the storage area in the basement. He grabbed a small suitcase and hanging suit bag before heading back up to his bedroom. He had just received the call he had been waiting on. Margi called and let him know that the wedding was on for this Tuesday and he had better be bringing her Benjamins with him to pay up on their bet. After she hung up he let Charles and Anna know that they would be flying out to the Tri-cities Monday evening.

Bran put the bags on the bed and started opening drawers and the closet methodically filling the suitcase. Everyday essentials taken care of, Bran walked back into the closet and looked over the rack that held his suits and tuxes. His gaze wandered back and forth.

As much as he had a reputation for being omnipotent, in many ways he was surprised that he was choosing a suit to wear to walk _his _Mercy down the aisle. He couldn't help, and didn't feel the need to try to stop the grin that followed the parade of memories playing in his mind.

The sixteen years that he had Mercy were some of the happiest of his lifetime. They were filled with their fair share of challenges and a constant state of vigilance required to protect her from others as well as from herself. If he had been capable of having them, she would have given him more stress migraines and ulcers than all of the werewolf politics he had to deal with combined. But even knowing what he would face, if he could go back he would have taken in Mercy as a baby all over again.

He remembered back to when Mercy was thirteen. She and Bryan's mate had been working away in secret in the sewing room for a week prior to Halloween. It was admittedly not his favorite holiday despite the sanitized and commercialized version of Samhain currently en vogue. Too much time spent in his mother's loving care had robbed him of seeing the day with an outlook any fonder than strained forbearance.

When the day rolled around and Bran answered the door with a bowl of tootsie rolls, chicklets, and double bubble in hand, he was undoubtedly struck dumb for quite a while before bursting out laughing.

Standing in front of him was Mercy with rosy cheeks and long braids that ran down the front of her shoulders. She had a white shirt with a black vest held together by a red ribbon on top of a full grey skirt that stopped just above white stockings in Maryjane's. The red hooded cape and wicker picnic basket would have completed if it hadn't been for the toy shotgun on a cord across her back, and a plastic hunting knife at her hip that would have made Crocodile Dundee proud.

Behind her stood a grinning Bryan in a red flannel shirt and jeans with a large axe in hand leaning against his shoulder.

The message was obvious and effective; "You may consider me prey, but I will not be taken down so easily, and I am not without my allies."

Bran had taken a few pictures of the two of them that day and added them to an album he had in his office safe that his mate would never have access to.

There are many qualities that, much to the chagrin of those who loved her, Mercy had a decided lack of, but spunk and intelligence would never be among them.

Mercy learned the art of subtle insults and defiance early on and she used them with great effect. Bran had been walking down Main Street when he heard an argument happening inside the general store.

After stepping in the door he stood unobtrusively to the side while he watched a battle of wits unfold.

Mercy was having a vibrant discussion with Thomas, the owner of the store.

"Well how do you suppose it went missing if it wasn't you?" Thomas demanded.

"Mr. Allen how well do you see?" Mercy inquired politely.

He sputtered at her non-sequitur question before replying indignantly "I've got perfect vision. What are you driving at?"

Mercy calmly answered "Well I'm just wondering why you no longer believe that, and suddenly you don't trust yourself. As usual, you watched me like a hawk the moment I walked in the door. I walked down the aisle in front of the door to the back wall refrigerators, picked up a soda and came to the till."

She had turned to point out the route she had taken, and rolled her eyes at Bran before turning back to hold up the soda she had put on the counter.

"And in that trip you believe I somehow managed to move over one aisle, steal and hide on me an Elle Magazine, because as my grungy t-shirt shows I'm obviously keeping track of fashion trends. All that you believe that must have happened somehow without you seeing because the stack is rumpled?" Mercy asked incredulously.

Mercy hitched a hip and cocked her head to the side before continuing "So you leave me the odd choice of agreeing that you are blind, which I agree with but not for this reason, or to reassure you that you aren't and you didn't see me steal a magazine because it didn't happen!"

She then pulled a dollar bill, put it on the counter "I'll leave you to your self-reflection. Keep the tip." Mercy used the bottle opener attached to the side of the counter, snapped the top into the garbage can against the wall and walked out the door.

Bran just shook his head at a still sputtering Thomas, and walked out behind her.

Bran was somewhat reassured that over the years Mercy had kept Bryan and his mate as much on their toes as she had kept him. Shortly after they passed, he had taken Mercy grocery shopping and she picked up off the shelf oatmeal, Red River Cereal, and Cream of Wheat.

"I thought that you hated Cream of Wheat?"

Bran felt rewarded with an unexpected ghost of a smile, the first he had seen since he had come to see her after he felt Bryan's death.

"Oh I won't ever be eating it, but it would be weird for it not to be in the cupboard."

She then in a completely neutral tone relayed how she had guaranteed that she wouldn't have to eat it in the years previous.

Starting on the first week of October each winter, Evelyn would make oatmeal every morning for a week, then Red River Cereal for a week and then Cream of Wheat for a week and repeat throughout the winter months.

Mercy told him that she would save up her allowance leading up to October, and choke down the nasty Cream of Wheat the first day, then buy eight red popsicles from the store and eat them all at once. She was allergic to something in the red colour of Popsicle, and by the following morning she would be covered in hives.

Evelyn would fuss and cover her in calamine lotion and she would be free from the week of Cream of Wheat for the rest of the winter. However Evelyn would try again the next fall just in case she grew out of her allergy.

Bran had burst out laughing in the middle of the store, and after he had seen a little more of the usual spark in her eyes.

Bran's smile remained as his mind scrolled back farther to when Mercy was a young child. It was at one of the funerals that happened before Thanksgiving, and was held for a young man from the town whose attempt at the change had been unsuccessful.

During the service, Mercy snuck away from Evelyn in the pew and jogged up to Reverend Mitchell who was speaking at the front. She gently tugged on his robes and after finishing his thought, he moved out from behind the altar and crouched down to her level.

"What is it my child?"

"Everybody smells heavy, that means they're sad. Can we sing? People smell better when we sing."

Reverend Mitchell smiled down at her. "Of course my child, now go and sit back down so you can help, alright?"

Mercy grinned and nodded before running back to her seat. The Reverend then slowly stood up and walked over to the piano off to the side that Mrs. Kessler sat at. He put his hand on the wood for a moment before leaning down to whisper his selection in her ear.

He then walked back to the altar and directed everyone to the proper page to sing Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. It was an uplifting and melodic song, and yet it contained pieces very relevant to the young man they had gathered to remember.

When the congregation sang together, it was beautiful, and it felt as if the young man they had lost was in fact singing the words back to them all. As the song went on, the feeling of sadness didn't entirely dissipate, but it was tempered with the beginnings of acceptance.

Following the service, Bran had ruffled Mercy's hair on the way out of the church and she told him that she was glad that everyone smelled lighter and the song the Reverend picked had her name in it!

Bran smiled even as he shook his head. In many ways Mercy was like the cartoon Coyote on that children's show. She was stubborn, inventive, never gave up and she had survived many experiences that should have killed her.

However, through the years she had never lost the warmth, kindness and altruism of the little girl who wanted to cheer up a group of grieving people. Time and experience had just made her selective over who she showed that side to.

Bran pulled out his charcoal grey suit, a light blue shirt and slate blue tie to pair it with. He had been out of her life almost as long as he was a part of it, and Bran was grateful to once again be one of those lucky enough to be a part of her life; stress headaches not withstanding!

**A/N: Many thanks to those who read and review. I greatly appreciate your words of encouragement.**

**I listen to an eclectic array of music and I like Chris Rice's version of the song above, it's a beautiful song/hymn and worth You Tubing if you have never heard it.**

**A cold is currently kicking my butt so I'll update when I can. **

**TTFN,**

**Megz**


	9. Author's Note

**So off and on since I posted my last chapter, I have tried in vain to come up with a believable glimpse into the relationship between Mercy and Charles when she lived in Aspen Creek. Everything I have come up with has felt very superficial and distant. I think I've come to the realization that (in my mind anyway) Charles and Mercy wouldn't have had meaningful interaction. This is because at that time, Mercy was a young girl/woman and likely would not have pushed past the carefully constructed persona that Charles had created to keep everyone at a distance. While I think Charles liked the little coyote, I don't think he was in a place to let another person close to him.**

**So in my mind I will see him during Mercy's childhood as the protective hidden presence that lay out of sight, and watched in quiet amusement as a little coyote jumped up in the air and snapped at the swallows that swooped overhead.**

**All this being said, I take my leave of all you lovely people that have read and followed along on this collection of moments in time. A special thanks to those of you who reviewed, followed and favorited this story; your encouragement is cherished and appreciated.**

**Until the next adventure!**

**TTFN**

**Megz**


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